Read Elsewhere Online

Authors: Gabrielle Zevin

Tags: #Young Adult, Paranormal, Romance, #molly

Elsewhere (15 page)

BOOK: Elsewhere
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"Maybe I'm different now," Emily says.

Owen decides to change the subject. "How are your parents?"

"Good," Emily says.

"And your sister?"

"Allie's divorcing Joe," Emily says.

Owen says, "They were so in love."

"Not for a long time, O."

"I still can't believe it," Owen says.

"You haven't seen them for a while," Emily says. "You missed some things."

"Okay," Owen says, "tell me everything about the last ten years in thirty seconds, go!"

"Um," she says, "I . . ."

"Faster," he says, looking at his watch, "you've only got twentyfive, twentyfour seconds left."

Emily laughs. She tries to speak as quickly as she can. "Finished medical school. Went into burns in your honor. Being a doctor was okay. Sickness, accidents, death. I spent a lot of time with my sister ..."

"Ten seconds left."

"Oh God, I've really got to hurry then. Allie had a baby, a boy, and she named it Owen. I was a good aunt." And then her voice changes, "Did you know when you died I was pregnant? We had a baby; I lost it, O."

"Time," Owen calls out halfheartedly. "I didn't know."

"What happens to babies when they die before they're born?" Emily asks.

"I think they don't make it all the way down the River to start with. They just float back and gather their strength until they can start swimming again. I'm not sure exactly."

"So the baby becomes another baby? Someone else's baby?"

"Something like that," Owen agrees.

"Oh, I wish I'd known that before. It wouldn't have seemed so sad."

"I wish I could have helped you," he says.

Emily sighs.

"We had a baby," Owen repeats. "Why didn't I know?"

"Because I didn't know myself until after you died. I lost it in the second month, and I wasn't really showing that much."

"But I still should have known! All I did was watch you!"

"Some things we can't see. Some things we don't want to see," she says.

"And I thought you were just sad over me," he whispers.

"There was certainly that, too."

"I would have liked to have met that baby," Owen says. "Did you name it?"

Emily nods. "I did."

"What was the name?"

Emily whispers the name in Owen's ear.

"I like that," he says softly. "Not too fancy, not too plain. I think he would have liked it, too."

At night, Emily starts sleeping on the sofa while Owen stays in the bedroom. They keep different hours and quickly find it to be easier this way. Besides, he feels happy just knowing she is across the wall from him. It reminds him of when they were kids growing up in New York, and they used to knock Morse code to each other.

Every day with Emily is like a small miracle to him. There she is in his chair. And there she is wearing his shirt. And there she is doing the dishes. And there she is sleeping. And she's everywhere.

He can't believe how everywhere she is. He wants to bite her just to make sure she's real.

He wants to take pictures of her just because he can. And when he's supposed to be doing other things, he just sits there and stares at her. And Emily's so amazing. She wants to see things, so he takes her to all his favorite places in Elsewhere. And she asks a lot of questions. (He had forgotten that about her.) And Owen tries his best to answer them, but she's always been smarter than him (now even more so), so he's not sure if all his answers are even satisfactory to her.

Okay, a couple of things do annoy him a little bit. He is ashamed to even mention them. She's messy. And she likes to start home improvement projects, but she never actually finishes them.

And she stays up late and is noisy even when she's trying to be quiet. And she never takes her hair out of the drain. And she really does ask a lot of questions. And sometimes they run out of stuff to talk about, because all they have in common is the past. So a lot of their conversations begin, "Do you remember that time . . . ?" And the thing that bothers him most has nothing to do with her.

But Owen tries to ignore these things. This is Emily, after all.

One Saturday afternoon, Liz stops by Owen's house to pick up Jen's favorite ball. Jen has been bothering Liz to do it for a week, but Liz has been avoiding the task for one reason or another.

When Liz finally does go, Owen isn't there, but Emily is. Liz wonders if Emily even knows who she is.

"I'm Liz," she says stiffly. "I'm the one watching Jen. You must be Emily."

"Oh, Liz, it's so nice to meet you." Emily shakes her hand. "Thank you for taking care of Jen," she says. "I hope I won't be allergic forever and that eventually she'll want to come back."

Liz nods. "I'm just here to get Jen's ball and then I'll go."

"Sure, I'll go get it." Emily returns with the ball. She looks at Liz. Liz reminds Emily of someone, but she can't quite place who it is. "How do you know Owen anyway?" Emily asks.

"I ..." She pauses. "I helped him adopt Jen. I work for the Department of Domestic Animals. I guess we sort of got to be friends through Jen."

"That makes sense," Emily says. "Can I get you a soda or something? It's just that I haven't met any of Owen's friends, and I'm sort of curious."

"I really have to go," Liz says. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, all right. Some other time, then?"

Liz nods. She gets into her car as quickly as she can and drives away.

"Hey, Liz," Emily calls after her, "you forgot to take Jen's toy!"

At home in bed, Liz cries into her pillow. Betty tries to comfort her.

"Don't cry, doll. There are other fish in the sea," Betty says.

"I'm not getting any older, if you haven't noticed," Liz says miserably. "There's no time for me to find other fish. Who even likes fish? I hate fish!"

"Well, you can still be friends with Owen, can't you?"

Liz says nothing.

"We should really invite them over for dinner," Betty says.

"Who?"

"Owen and his wife, of course."

"Why?"

"Because it's nice, and he's your good friend."

"I think that's a rotten idea," Liz says.

"Let's invite them for next Saturday," Betty says. "I'm really curious about her."

"I met her today," Liz says.

"Really? What is she like?"

"She's very pretty," Liz concedes, "and very adult."

Liz gets out of bed and looks in the mirror over her bureau. She wonders if she is already starting to look younger.

About a week later, Emily and Owen come to Betty's house for dinner. Owen is happy to see Jen and proud to introduce Emily to everyone. Betty and Emily spend most of the evening talking to each other. Their conversation is punctuated by Emily's sneezes, even though the dogs had been banished to Liz's room for the occasion. Liz is mostly silent. Owen keeps trying to make eye contact with her, but she consciously avoids his gaze. On account of Emily's allergies and Liz's sullenness, the evening ends quickly.

After Owen and Emily have left, Betty says, "Now don't you feel better having done that?"

"Not really," Liz says.

"She was nice," Betty adds.

"I didn't say she wasn't," Liz says through gritted teeth.

In the car on the way home, Emily says to Owen, "You like Liz, don't you?"

Owen doesn't answer.

"You don't have to feel bad about it," Emily continues. "It would be the most natural thing in the world if you did. She's your age, and you couldn't have known I would be coming here."

Owen shakes his head. "I love you, Em. I'll always love you."

"I know you do," Emily says.

That same night, Liz is about to jump into bed when she notices a large yellow puddle.

"What happened in here?" Liz asks Sadie.

"Don't look at me! It was Jen," Sadie answers. "I think she's having abandonment issues. She thought Owen was coming to get her tonight."

"That's it!" Liz yells. "I'm driving over there!" She grabs Betty's keys from the counter and slams the door.

With her pulse racing, Liz rings Owen's doorbell.

"Are you ever planning to come and get Jen?" Liz yells. "Or are you just planning to leave her with me for the rest of your life?"

"Owen, who's at the door?" Emily calls.

"It's only Liz," Owen yells back.

"Hi, Liz," Emily calls out.

" 'Only Liz'?" Liz is indignant.

Owen closes the door behind him and leads Liz off the porch. "You don't say a word to me all night, and then you come over here to yell at me!"

"Owen," Liz says, "I don't think it's fair what you're doing to Jen. She feels abandoned and upset."

"Oh, come on, I'm sure she's fine living with you. Jen loves you," Owen says.

"Jen may love me, but I am not her owner. She peed on my bed. Dogs who are housebroken only pee on people's beds when they're having issues."

"Well," Owen says, "I'm sorry about that."

"So when are you planning to come and get her?" Liz demands.

"Soon, soon, just as soon as Emily's settled in."

"It's been two weeks. Don't you think she's settled in enough?"

"You know Emily's allergic." Owen sighs. "I don't know what to do."

"You made a commitment to Jen. You said you would take care of her," Liz says.

"But I made a commitment to Emily long before I ever met Jen."

"Oh, for crying out loud! I am so tired of Emily!" Liz yells.

"And I think this isn't about Jen at all!" Owen yells back.

"For your information, I don't want anything to do with you. I wouldn't even be here if you hadn't left your dog with me!"

"Oh yeah?" says Owen.

"Yeah."

And then, because there is nothing left to say, they kiss. Liz wasn't sure if Owen had kissed her or if she had, in fact, kissed him. Either way, it's not quite how she imagined their first kiss would be.

When Liz finally pulls away from Owen, she sees Emily staring back at her. Emily doesn't look angry exactly, just sort of curious.

"Hello," Emily says. "I heard yelling." She smiles a very strange smile. "I guess I'll leave you two alone," she says, not unkindly.

"Emily " Owen says. But Emily is already gone. "This is all your fault!" Owen yells at Liz.

"My fault? But you kissed me."

"I mean, you being here. You existing. You're making my life so much harder," Owen says.

"What do you mean?" Liz asks.

"I loved Emily. I love her," Owen says, "and maybe if I had met you first, things would be different. But this is the way things are."

Owen sinks onto the porch steps. He looks deflated. "She's my wife, Liz. There's nothing I can do.

Even if I wanted to do something, there's nothing I can do."

"I'll keep watching Jen," Liz says before she leaves.

The Sneaker Clause

One night after work, Aldous Ghent stops by the DDA. Liz is one of Aldous's favorite advisees, and he often leaves business with her until the day's end. That evening, he finds Liz, Sadie, and Jen cooped up in Liz's office. It had rained all day, and all three are in particularly black moods. In an argument over whose water bowl was whose, Sadie had bitten Jen's back leg. Though it wasn't a bad bite, Jen's pride is wounded and now she isn't speaking to Sadie.

"Hello, ladies," Aldous says cheerily. Luckily, Aldous is the type of man who is oblivious to most people's black moods, as he is almost always in a good mood himself. "Jen, Sadie, I need to speak to Liz alone for a moment." Both dogs reluctantly get to their feet. Jen affects an inconsistent limp.

"How's Owen?" Aldous asks Liz with a knowing smile.

"I wouldn't know," Liz replies.

"What's Shakespeare say? 'The course of true love never did run smooth,' " Aldous teases her.

"I wouldn't know," Liz repeats.

"If I recall, it's from A Midsummer Nights Dream."

"We had only gotten up to Macbeth in English, then I died."

"Well, Elizabeth, we do have Shakespeare here, you know."

"The thing about Shakespeare is you can only read him if someone is making you," Liz says. "On Elsewhere, no one makes you read Shakespeare or anything else." Liz sighs. "Aldous, what do you want already?"

"I'm sure you'll find that whatever quarrel you and Owen have had will quickly mend itself," Aldous says.

"I doubt that," Liz says. "Owen's wife has arrived from Earth."

"My, that is a bump," says Aldous, momentarily fazed by Liz's revelation. And then the everpresent smile returns to his face. "When you've lived as long as I have, you'll find that the world has a way of working things out," Aldous says.

"Whatever that means," Liz says under her breath.

"I've come to remind you that next week marks the one-year anniversary of your arrival in Elsewhere," Aldous says. "So, congratulations, Elizabeth!"

"Is that all?" says Liz. Aldous always takes a ridiculously long time to get to the point. Normally she finds him amusing, but today she wants to scream.

"Well, it's just a formality really, but I need to make sure you don't want to exercise the Sneaker Clause."

"What was that again?"

"A Sneaker is a teenager or younger person who returns to Earth before his or her proper passage," says Aldous. "If you recall, you had one year to decide, and your year is just about finished."

Liz. considers what Aldous is saying. Somehow this whole experience with Owen and Emily has made her feel entirely exhausted and pessimistic. What is the point of loving anyone? To Liz, all the effort of working, living, loving, talking has begun to seem just that: effort. In fifteen years (less, actually), she would just forget everything anyway. All things considered, it is beginning to seem preferable to speed the process up a bit. "So I can still go?" Liz asks.

"You're not saying you want to go?" asks Aldous.

Liz nods.

Aldous looks at Liz. "Well, I must say I'm surprised, Elizabeth. I'd never pegged you for a Sneaker." Aldous's eyes tear. "And I thought you had such a successful acclimation."

"What would I have to do?" Liz asks.

"Inform your friends and loved ones of your decision. By letter or in person, it's your choice.

Perhaps you should speak to Betty about this, Elizabeth."

"This is what I want, Aldous," Liz says. "Wait, you won't tell her, will you?"

Aldous shakes his head, looking uncharacteristically tortured. "Everything we discuss is always confidential. I couldn't tell her, even if I wanted to. Even though I probably should."

Now Aldous begins to cry outright. "Was it something I did? Or didn't do?" he asks. "Please don't spare my feelings."

"No, I think it was just me," Liz comforts him as best she can.

It is determined that Liz's Release will take place Sunday morning, the one-year anniversary of her arrival on Elsewhere and the last possible day she could exercise the clause. She will leave with all the babies on the River. It will be strange, Liz thinks, to be among so many babies.

Furthermore, Liz will have to be wrapped in swaddling clothes, which would be totally humiliating if anyone saw her. Of course, no one will see her anyway.

The only person Liz decides to tell is Curtis Jest. The obvious choices Betty, Thandi, or Sadie would try to talk her out of it, and Liz isn't in the mood for any more drama. She isn't speaking to Owen. So basically that leaves Curtis. He always seems amused by other people's lives, but decidedly detached and apathetic. He would be sad to see her go, but he wouldn't do anything to try to stop her. And that is exactly what Liz wants.

Still, Liz waits as long as possible to talk to Curtis. She tells him on the Saturday night before she is set to leave.

"So I suppose there's no talking you out of this?" Curtis says, as the two of them sit on the wharf, their legs dangling over the side.

"Nope," Liz replies, "it's decided."

"And this isn't because of Owen?"

Liz sighs. "No," she says finally, "not really. But maybe I just wish I could have what he has."

"I don't follow, Lizzie."

"The thing is, Owen had Emily from before, from Earth. I have nothing from before on Earth.

Emily was Owen's first love, and I want that, I want to be someone's first. Can you understand that? It sometimes feels that in this backward life, nothing that happens to me is ever new.

Everything that happens has happened to someone else before. I feel like I'm getting everything secondhand."

"Liz," Curtis says seriously, "I think you would find that even if you were still on Earth, living a forward life, everything that happened to you would still have happened to someone else."

"Yes," Liz concedes, "but it wouldn't be so predetermined. I wouldn't know when I was going to die. I wouldn't know that in less than fifteen years, I would be a stupid baby again. I would get to be an adult. I would have a life of my own."

"You have a life of your own."

Liz shrugs. She feels no need to have this conversation.

"Liz, I must tell you, I think you're making a grave mistake."

Suddenly, Liz turns on him. "You're a fine one to talk! Look at you, you sit on this wharf all day, day after day, and you do nothing! You see no one! You don't sing! You're half dead, really!"

"I'm all dead, actually," Curtis jokes.

"Everything is a joke to you; everything is amusing. Well, why aren't you singing? Why don't you sing something, Curtis?"

"Because I have already done that once," Curtis says firmly.

"So you don't miss it at all? You can't honestly expect me to believe that you're happy just being a fisherman. I mean, I've never even seen you catch anything!"

"I do catch fish; I just throw them all back."

"That's completely stupid and pointless!"

"Not at all. We direct the fish back to Earth and, furthermore, we keep the wharf picturesque.

Fishing is a fine, noble profession," says Curtis.

"Unless you're supposed to do something else!"

Curtis doesn't answer for a while. "Last week, I met a gardener named John Lennon."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Liz asks. She isn't in the mood for Curtis's bullshit.

"Nothing. It's only to say that just because someone did something before doesn't mean they have to do it still."

"Do you know what I think?" Liz asks. "I think you're a coward!" She stands and walks away.

"Takes one to know one, Lizzie my gal!" Curtis calls after her.

Liz stays up all night drafting a letter to Betty. Dear Betty, Every day is exactly like the day before, and I can't stand it anymore. I feel like Fll never get to the good part. Death is just one big rerun, you know.

It's not about Owen.

By now, you probably know I've gone back to Earth Gone back to Earth as Sneaker.

Please don't worry.

I'm sorry it has to be this way.

I'm sorry.

Take care of Sadie and Jen for me.

Love,

Liz

Omitting the crossed-out parts, Liz rewrites the letter on a fresh sheet of paper and goes to sleep.

Late that night, Owen hears a knocking on the wall. He listens to the knocks, which seem to have a familiar, steady rhythm: it is Emily knocking Morse code to him.

"Do you want me to go?" she knocks.

He doesn't answer.

"I want to go," she knocks.

He doesn't answer.

"Knock twice so I know you've heard me."

He takes a deep breath and knocks twice.

"This isn't working out," she knocks.

"I know," Owen knocks back.

"I will always love you," she knocks, "but our timing just isn't right."

"I know," Owen knocks.

"I'm a thirty-five-year-old woman; I'm different now," she knocks.

"I know," Owen knocks.

"You're seventeen," she knocks.

"Sixteen," he knocks.

"Sixteen!" she knocks.

"I'm sorry," he knocks softly.

"It isn't your fault, O. It's just life," she knocks.

"But we're dead," he knocks.

Owen can hear Emily laugh in the other room. No knocks follow, and then she is standing in his room.

"When you first died, I wanted to die, too. I didn't want to be alive without you," Emily says. "You were my whole life. I had no memories that didn't contain you somehow."

Owen nods.

"But I moved on. I stopped waiting for you. In truth, I didn't believe I would ever see you again,"

Emily says.

"You never married," Owen says.

"I had done that before. And to even consider doing it again, you were the standard against which all others had to be judged." She laughs. "The funny thing is, I had actually met someone a couple of months before I died. It wasn't serious, not yet, but it had possibility."

"I never saw that! I never once saw you with another guy!" Owen says.

"Well, I suspect you hadn't been watching me very closely during that time," Emily says.

Owen looks away.

"On some level, I could always feel you watching me, Owen, and I noticed when you stopped,"

Emily says.

Owen doesn't answer.

"It's all right for you to be in love with someone else. You shouldn't feel guilty," Emily says gently.

"At first, I think I liked her because she reminded me of you," he says quietly.

"Or me twenty years ago."

Owen looks at Emily and for the first time since she'd arrived on Elsewhere, he really sees her.

She's pretty, maybe even more so than she was as a girl. But she's different. She's older, more angular. Her eyes are changed, but he can't say just how. "I don't really know you anymore, do I?" he says sadly.

She kisses him on the forehead, and he wants to cry.

"Some couples work out; some couples make it here," Owen says. "Why can't we be those people?"

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Emily says. "And in any case, I'm glad I got to see you again."

"But it seems unfair, doesn't it? We were supposed to grow old together and all that."

"Well, that wasn't going to happen anyway. Not here at least," Emily points out. "And I think we were luckier than most," she says. "We had a great life together, and we got a second chance, too. How many people can say that?"

"Is this because of that night on the porch?" Owen asks.

"Not at all," Emily assures him. "But as you mention it, would you like to know what I saw out there?" She pauses. "I saw two kids in love."

Owen closes his eyes and when he opens them again, she is gone. He feels a strange ache in his forearm. He examines his tattoo, which is more vivid than he can ever remember it being, even when it had first been applied. The heart throbs and pulses almost like a real heart. And then, in a moment, the tattoo is gone, too. Aside from a slight redness, his skin is bare. It is as if the tattoo had never been there at all.

Right before he falls asleep, he vows to go see Liz first thing in the morning.

BOOK: Elsewhere
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